


Breakfast with Harvey

by riddlesinthedark (MrsSaxon)



Category: Gotham (TV)
Genre: Also HOLY CRAP is this ship hard to tag!, And deserves only nice things, And makes me happy, Believe me I am fucking trying, Fluff, God I had to actually SEARCH for it, Gordlock - Freeform, Gordlock is basically canon tho!, I'm TRYING SO HARD to push them into an admission, Implied Relationship, Is a very good and beautiful ship, It's just IMPOSSIBLE, Jesus... we need more peeps, Jim is very very tired, M/M, Or... well, That unspoken 'I'm desperately in love with you but I can't say it' thing, You know how it is in the show, anyway, post-3x14, post-3x14 breakfast really
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-17
Updated: 2017-02-17
Packaged: 2018-09-25 02:02:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,211
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9797525
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MrsSaxon/pseuds/riddlesinthedark
Summary: Breakfast is never a date. But that doesn't mean we're not all trying to say I love you.





	

Daylight had never looked so good, even if it was only revealing carnage and disaster from the chaotic reign of Jerome. There was still a new day, Jerome hadn’t captivated the city, and the madness and debris was being swept away even as he and Harvey sat down to breakfast. 

“What a night,” Harvey groaned next to him, grabbing the first cup of coffee in sight and drowning himself in it. “Let’s hope we don’t have many more like it any time soon.” 

“Unless Hugo Strange has a brother working in Blackgate, hopefully we won’t have to worry about Jerome for some time,” Jim sighed, handing his menu back to the waitress with a tired smile. He didn’t even bother to entertain the idea that Jerome _wouldn’t_ get out again, it seemed inevitable with some criminals in this city. But he held onto the hope that he might be more rested when Jerome went on his next spree. 

“Here’s to that,” Harvey grinned, knocking glasses with him for a toast. 

Jim let the sunlight at his back fill him as they waited in measured silence for their breakfasts to come. He let his eyes close, focusing on the warmth spreading across his leather coat, and from there into his skin, and muscles, and bones, so deep and cold he couldn’t remember when they’d last relaxed. 

A gentle hand pushed a strand of hair away out of his eyes. Jim flicked an eye open to look at Harvey’s hand retreating. “Why don’t you take the day off? You look beat,” Harvey suggested, eyeing Jim up and down. 

“You’ve been up as long as me, are you taking the day off?” Jim grumbled, rolling his head back, “Just get some food into me, I’ll be fine.” 

“As a matter of fact I was contemplating it,” Harvey corrected, pouting at him, “I’d recommend we all take a half day but I don’t trust Gotham not to form a new bomb-worshipping cult in the meanwhile if we do.” 

Jim snorted; he was probably right. His eyes struggled to open and focus again, maybe he should… 

“I’m just saying, you should really get some sleep,” Harvey hinted, less than subtly. 

Jim attempted to look as resigned as possible without opening his eyes. “You call it off, I’ll come with you, deal?” 

“Of course, partner.” Came Harvey’s prompt reply and Jim could even hear the smile in his voice. His lips twitched but he refused to smile back, swallowing the urge. 

At last their plates came, eggs and bacon and toast for Jim, pancakes and sausage with extra syrup for Harvey. Warmth settled on them again under the quiet scratching and clanking of knives and forks. 

Between bites of scrambled egg and toast, feeling more awake again, Jim’s thoughts turned to Lee. If there was maybe even a chance she could… 

“Don’t go down that rabbit hole,” Harvey interjected. 

With effort, Jim blinked and turned to him, “What?” 

“Don’t,” Harvey cautioned, sipping his coffee, “You been there once, going back will only cause you pain and misery. Don’t torture yourself with what might have been.” 

Jim’s eyebrows pinched, consternated, but not surprised. “How did you kn-” 

“I didn’t meet you yesterday, that’s how,” Harvey sighed, setting down his coffee and digging back into his pancakes, “what, you think I don’t know the faces of Jim Gordon? Two hideous break ups, a weird almost friendship, several death-defying leaps of faith later and you really think I don’t know what you’re thinking half the time?” 

This time, Jim couldn’t resist smiling. He felt his cheeks stretch, pulling back wide in a smile he ought to have been too tired to do. He didn’t know how Harvey made him feel like smiling, but he did. Jim watched, taking the time to really observe his sly, brilliant, self-degrading partner. He watched Harvey sponge his fluffy pancakes into a puddle of syrup and stuff them eagerly into his mouth, only for the syrup to splash out, disobediently dripping into his beard.

“You’ve got a little…” Jim motioned at the little droplets of syrup dotting Harvey’s beard. Harvey turned to him, blinking, completely lost at Jim’s gestures. Jim scarcely paid attention to Harvey’s confusion, going after the syrup himself with a licked thumb, plucking at Harvey’s beard as softly as possible. 

“Uh… think I just made your whole beard sticky.” Jim apologized, flushing, after several seconds of trying to comb the syrup out. He dropped his hand quickly, rubbing it on his thigh to get any syrup off, but more so to have something to do with his hand that _wasn’t_ petting Harvey’s beard. 

Harvey gulped, not having chewed or taken another bite since Jim had reached out for him. He clutched the complimentary water glass and downed half of it, washing down the huge bite of pancake lodged in his throat. Harvey coughed, thumping his chest. “Don’t worry about it,” he muttered, not looking Jim in the eye. 

Jim returned his attention pointedly to his plate but found his appetite had vanished. He barely remembered eggs were an edible substance. He figured he’d just sit like this and wait until Harvey was ready to leave and then go lie awake in his bed for 3 hours, trying to think about anything other than Harvey and the smell of pancakes and the feeling of sticky beard in his hand. Next to him, though he didn’t notice, Harvey was similarly no longer eating. 

“Check, please,” Harvey murmured at the first sight of the waitress. Jim looked up and finally noticed that Harvey hadn’t moved since their, uh, disconnection either. 

“Oh, uh, let me pay.” Jim reached for his wallet. 

“No, Jim, I insist,” Harvey rejected him, already pulling out bills, “I invited you, I’ll pay.” 

Jim gulped, but returned his wallet to his pocket and said nothing. 

Outside, the sunshine was stronger and brought an even stronger desire for sleep. Jim rubbed his eyes and shielded them from the sun’s intoxicating rays, but it did nothing. “So, bed, er, nap,” Jim corrected himself hurriedly as he stepped into Harvey’s car. 

“Uhhh, yeah, yep,” Harvey responded, turning the car on and facing forward. He cleared his throat and seemed to recover himself as he started to pull out. “I mean, I’m bushed, I’m gonna go home, take my hat off, and fall into bed. Take a twelve hour nap. You should do the same, if you ask me.” 

“I should… maybe I will,” Jim teased, or attempted to, grinning in a way he hoped was cavalier. 

“Yeah, that shot up bed of yours going to do the trick?” 

Zsasz didn’t… oh. Oh. “Well, if I had somewhere else to stay,” Jim swallowed, “with slightly fewer bullet holes.” 

“Well, there is that one from the time I was drunk and tried to shoot a spider,” Harvey admitted, “are you able to stand that?” 

Jim gulped, his pounding heart blocking out all sound. “I-It’s less than ideal, but I’ll make do.” And he knew the face he was making was a poor excuse for a joke and veering dangerously close to sincere. It was a good thing Harvey had never seen him adore something; he might not be able to tell. Jim at least told himself that.


End file.
